An Inch Closer
by LadyNobleSong
Summary: O'Brien teaches a very enthusiastic Cora how to braid hair; dangerous closeness ensues. Cora/O'Brien. Mostly fluff, slight femslash, rated T only to be safe, but this is really genuine.


**A/N**: A very happy birthday to the lovely evypeavylemonsqueezy! I hope you enjoy this, dear.  
As always, reviews are like cupcakes to me. 3

Wil~

* * *

**An Inch Closer**

'You really have incredible fingers, O'Brien,' Lady Grantham said one day, entirely out of the blue. The maid, whom had been lost for quite some time in the contemplation of Cora Crawley's slender neck and gracious shoulders, took a few seconds to grasp the full meaning of her mistress' words. After a brief look at her calloused fingers, her brow furrowed slightly, and she looked through the mirror searchingly, until her eyes caught Cora's pale, innocent ones.

'I beg you pardon, m'lady, I- I'm afraid I don't understand.' Her gaze still locked with her maid's, Lady Grantham gave a soft, amused smile through the mirror, tilting her head to the side almost imperceptibly. She had a hairpin in her hands, which she kept on toying with, rolling it between her still ungloved fingers. She almost dropped it; yet caught it back right before it touched the wood of the dressing table. She gave a quick laugh, before explaining herself.

'I've always been thoroughly impressed by your skills with hair, my dear O'Brien, not to mention your mending and darning.' As if she tried to better emphasize her words, she turned her head slightly, pointing at the intricate way her maid had just pinned her raven black curls. As the other woman seemed to have fallen silent, Cora twisted her neck to look at her directly; her smile brightening when she noticed how very flushed the poor thing looked, her sharp cheekbones almost glowing.

'Thank you, m'lady, I- I don't know what to say.'

'You don't have to say anything, my dear, it was merely a remark.' O'Brien nodded, seemingly incapable of raising her eyes to Cora's level, her gaze focused on the point of her black shoes, which poked out from under her thick; equally black gown. Silently, yet rather boldly, she reached out for her mistress' shoulder and squeezed it briefly, trying to pour her thankfulness and gratitude into the small gesture. After a moment of lingering silence, Lady Grantham talked again.

'Would you teach me?' she asked, her voice uncertain, almost shy. It was ridiculous, due to her position in society, that Cora would feel even remotely embarrassed to ask her maid for such a small, painless favour. Yet she _was_ really fond of the other woman, which might well have been the reason why her heart had begun beating just a little faster, when her maid's rough fingers had come into contact with the flesh of her shoulder.

'Teach you 'ow to put your 'air up?' Her ladyship nodded, almost eagerly. 'You mean, now?' Cora nodded for the second time, and when her lips suddenly curved into her trademark kittenish smile, O'Brien knew she was utterly lost. 'It would be an 'onour, m'lady, but I'm afraid we don't 'ave quite enough time left now; pining hair such as yours is quite a long process…'

She let her voice trail in the air, waiting for the words to sink in. The lady's smile wavered for a moment, threatening to disappear, when suddenly, her eyes began sparkling again with a brand new idea; Sarah could not repress a tender, rapid smile.

'What about a braid, O'Brien? Would that be simple enough for tonight?'

O'Brien took a few seconds to consider the proposition. 'A braid would be simple enough indeed, yet m'lady, your 'air is finished already; wouldn't it be a waste of time to untie it now?'

'Of course,' Cora answered, a discreet smirk appearing on her lips for a second. 'But what about _your_ hair, dear one?'

'My 'air? Milady, do you really wish to practice braiding _my_ 'air?' O'Brien's voice sounded so thick with disbelief, that it caused Cora to feel a sharp pang of sadness within her chest.

'Not if it ought to make you uncomfortable-'

'Oh, not at all! I'm just- I'm very touched, m'lady.' Cora was suddenly looking at her with the most genuine smile she had been given to witness, her eyes positively twinkling with excitement and amusement.

'So, you agree?' she asked tentatively.

'Of course I do, m'lady!'

As soon as she had spoken, Cora was on her feet, pulling the chair back a little, gesturing at Sarah to come sit down at the dressing table. As the latter seemed frozen on the spot, the lady insisted.

'Well, do sit, O'Brien! I don't think I can quite braid your hair while you are still standing up.'

O'Brien sat wordlessly, and Lady Grantham settled behind her. It was peculiar to witness such a reversal of situation, O'Brien, stiff-shouldered, sitting nervously on the edge of the chair, while her ladyship was searching for her eyes throughout the mirror.

'Shall I put the pins out first?' Cora asked softly, and the purring sound of her voice seemed to suddenly shake her maid awake. She simply nodded, but when Cora's fingers began thread into her hair for the very first time, her fingertips accidently grazing the skin of her scalp, she could barely repress a moan; instead, she tightened her lips into a thin line.

The lady began removing pin after pin, her touch growing more and more confident which every new one, her fingers threading deeper within the shiny and tangled mahogany curls; her touch lingering a just a little longer than strictly necessary. On the chair, O'Brien was experiencing the most delightful case of inner torture. Each and every hesitant touch or involuntary caress from her mistress caused her to stifle a strangled whimper, She was aware of her eyelids fluttering restlessly, and struggled not to lean back to obviously into the touch. The small burn that her ladyship's skin seemed to lay upon hers was exquisitely pleasant, and even in her most forbidden dreams, never had she expected such maddening pleasure, especially from an utterly simple touch.

Cora eventually removed the last pin, settling it on top of the pile which was resting on the edge of the table. O'Brien shook her head the faintest bit, and that was the very moment when her ladyship realised just how surprisingly long and ridiculously beautiful her maid's hair actually was. Unable to stop herself, she began running her fingers along the locks, finishing to untangle them from the others, but above all marveling at the silken texture of the shiny strands. Slowly, she began braiding them, trying her very best to reproduce O'Brien's precise gestures, humming lightly into the process.

Once she reached the end of the strands, she stopped for a second to admire her work. Of course, the braid looked altogether very less neat than O'Brien's perfect ones, and a few hairs were still sticking out at odd angles, but the shape of the braid was recognizable at least, and Cora felt a surge of pride course throughout her veins as she reached towards one of her own, pink, silken ribbons, in order to tie it at the very bottom of the braid. As she finished knotting it in a little bow, she gently settled the braid along O'Brien's shoulder and chest, for her to consider.

'Well done, m'lady!' O'Brien muttered softly, her eyes locking with her mistress' as she turned around; Lady Cora let out a breath she did not realise she had been holding, allowing herself to smile at her maid with sheer happiness. It felt so wonderful to have eventually achieved something, no matter how small the task. In a fit of boldness, she squeezed her maid's shoulder all of the sudden, mirroring the latter's earlier actions. Cora let out a small gasp when suddenly Sarah's fingers were upon hers; patting her hand gently for the briefest second, before bringing it back to her lap, seemingly flustered.

'Thank you very much, Sarah, for your time and devotion,' Cora answered, not realising how naturally her maid's Christian name had flowed to her lips. O'Brien's lips fell slightly agape, but Lady Grantham did not leave her enough time to react in any way. 'I think I did rather well indeed, for a first attempt,' she suddenly said, before adding with a cheeky, endearing grin: 'I should deserve a reward of some sort, don't you think?'

'I do,' O'Brien promptly answered. 'I only wonder what I could possibly offer to your ladyship which wouldn't seem, or be, utterly ridiculous.'

Cora wanted to protest, to comfort the woman who still, after so many years, seemed to think so very little of herself; she did neither. She only blinked slowly, and before she knew, the words were already pouring off her mouth, without rhyme or reason. 'How about a kiss, O'Brien?' she declared, as casually as she could, despite the sudden quickening of her own heart's pace. 'I think I would like that.'

The maid seemed stunned for a moment –and who could have blamed her? Her face was more flushed than ever before, her very neck turning a deep shade of pink; and yet, when her ladyship tilted her head to the side, to better offer her pale, soft cheekbone to Sarah's lips, the latter did not hesitate, leaning down swiftly to drop a butterfly kiss against her mistress' skin, barely touching it at all.

It seemed like O'Brien's heart was threatening to rip her chest in two, when suddenly Lady Cora clasped her chin gently between two delicate fingers, her face drifting under Sarah's mouth, until her own, supple lips eventually came to brush upon her maid's, in a touch as tender as it was unexpected. The contact barely lasted more than a second; and yet it was the most upsetting and magnificent second ever. Moreover, both women were perfectly aware that it held a much deeper meaning for both of them than they would ever allow themselves to let on.

When they broke apart, O'Brien noticed how Lady Grantham's chest was heaving, rubbing against the seam of her lace-trimmed corset; she forced herself to look away, her lips still tingling with all sorts of delightful, thrilling emotions which she had kept repressed for so long. Aware that the moment was over, and desperately craving for some fresh air, she then stood up and began moving towards the bedroom's door. Cora did not protest, yet she silently followed her maid to the said door and, just as the latter was about to step out, she felt a small yet firm pressure upon her wrist.

She turned around and her gaze instantly locked with her mistress', blue eyes boring into even bluer eyes. Cora suddenly leaned it a little, a faint yet distinctively seductive smile upon her lips, and simply whispered a few words into Sarah's ear before hastily moving away, allowing the other woman to eventually exit the room.

'You truly are very lovely, Sarah O'Brien.'

* * *

**A/N**: Thank you so much for reading! You are the loveliest, okay? Wil~


End file.
